


When he smiles

by feydanist



Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies)
Genre: Bofur's POV, Developing Relationship, Eventual Romance, Fluff, M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, POV Third Person Limited, Slow Build
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-04-27
Updated: 2014-11-25
Packaged: 2018-01-20 23:15:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 6,798
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1529345
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/feydanist/pseuds/feydanist
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bofur fears that the hobbit may be feeling left out amongst them and decides to help him overcome his homesickness. He wasn't expecting to become so attached to him in return.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> So I decided to write an accompanying piece of my other fic "Above our control"; this time from Bofur's point of view. I was going to write it as a one-shot, but I keep adding more and more stuff and never ending it, so I decided to write it into chapters. Eventually, I'm going to reach that scene from my other fic, and then I'll keep going from there. I don't know how long it's going to take, but I will end this. Promise!
> 
> Please tell me what you think, and if you notice any grammar or spelling mistakes let me know.
> 
> Enjoy!

Bilbo was far from being the first Hobbit Bofur ever encountered, but he was the first one he knew that lived by himself. Through his many journeys, he had many brief encounters with the gentle folk. They tended to be surrounded by numerous family members and, particularly, little ones. That was one of the reasons their interactions were due to in the first place: to sell the many toys his cousin made to the numerous hobbit children. But Bilbo not only lived by himself. He also, apparently, didn’t mind his solicitude.

 

During their time together with the company, Bilbo kept mostly to himself or with the wizard, but rarely with them. The few times the hobbit interacted with the company were very brief and he made sure to be his polite self during the entire time. After finishing the conversation., he would leave and go to smoke alone, or talk to Gandalf, or even to his own pony, but he never made any attempt to stay with the Dwarves longer than necessary. Bofur often wondered if this behavior was due to the fact that the hobbit seemed to be kind of an oddball, even amongst his own people, or if there were other causes for this behavior.

 

Maybe they weren’t trying enough to make him feel comfortable amongst them. Dwarves tended to be pretty crude among themselves, but Bofur knew their ways weren’t the same for all races. Dwarven society was also pretty secretive, and the Halfling, being both the new guy and an outsider, was probably feeling left out by his kin without them noticing it. Thinking all of this made Bofur feel bad about the whole thing. It was one thing to like having your own space, and another different one to be left out. The poor guy was probably feeling lonely.

 

Bofur then decided to have a chat with Bilbo; this time preferable without making him faint or worst. He walked towards the spot he saw him walk to after lunch, and stopped abruptly after hearing him sing. The song was new to the dwarf’s ears, but the feeling behind it all too familiar. It was a song that spoke about longings for a missing home, and both the lyrics and the melody left the dwarf filled with a deep sense of melancholy. He stood there hidden, listening quietly, until the song came to an end.

 

“I didn’t know you sing.”

 

Bilbo jumped, obviously not noticing he was there. “Bofur! You startled me! I thought I was alone.”

 

“Sorry for scaring ya. I didn’t want to interrupt. I liked hearing you.”

 

Bilbo looked surprised at that. “Really?”

 

“Aye. You have a lovely voice and the song was really pretty.” Bofur meant it. He wondered why Bilbo never joined them into their nightly singing, and then he felt stupid realizing that he probably didn’t know any of their songs. “It’s a little sad, though. Do you really miss your home that much?”

 

Bilbo tensed a little at the question and the worried look of the dwarf. “Well, I hoped that my ‘constant whining’ about it, like your leader calls it, would make that pretty clear.”

 

Bofur laughed at the hobbit’s indignant expression despise himself and watched him frown even deeper.

 

He suddenly remembered the day he and his twelve companions burst into the hobbit’s home, pillaging his pantry and turning the tidy place into a mess. At first, Bofur found himself laughing along with his fellow dwarves at the hobbit’s fussiness. ‘Was this the creature that was going to help them recover Erebor from a fire-breathing monster?’ Thorin wasn’t the only one dubious that night.

 

But then, the wizard had said that Bilbo had more to offer that even himself was unaware of, and he wasn’t one to contradict wizards. If master Baggins was going to face the dragon with the same ferocity he defended his dollies, the battle was already won.

 

Bilbo was about to speak again, interrupting his thoughts, when Bofur cut him off.

 

“Sorry lad. I didn’t mean to laugh at you, but you look so funny when you are all grumpy.”

 

Bilbo frowned even more and was about to retort something nasty (or the hobbit’s extremely polite version of ‘nasty’, probably), when Bofur cut him off again.

 

“Hey, it’s okay though. I prefer seeing you mad at me than sad.”

 

Bilbo’s frown eased at his words and his eyes got brighter. “I wasn’t sad. I just-“ Bilbo looked away and a downcast look started to form in his face. Bofur wouldn’t allow that.

 

He got closer to the hobbit and put his hand on his shoulder. Bilbo looked at the dwarf’s eyes with a neutral expression.

 

“Hey master Baggins, I’ve got an idea. How about you teach me a hobbit song? A merry one.” He gave the hobbit’s shoulder a little squeeze. “And after that, who knows? Maybe I’ll teach you a dwarf song.”

 

Bilbo smiled softly at him and Bofur couldn't help to grin even wider. ‘Of all his many facial expressions, this is definitely my favorite’, he thought, and decided to try his luck even further. “Maybe I’ll even teach you a dirty dwarf song! What do you think?” he said, winking at him.

 

Bilbo’s smile dropped after that, and Bofur started to laugh again. The hobbit rolled his eyes at him and walked away with an air of deep indignation, but Bofur could see the hobbit’s smile forming again before turning away from him.

 

Bofur followed him closely, and when they arrived at the camp, most of their companions were already asleep, with the exception of the ever observant Thorin, Balin and Gandalf. Bilbo turned to him and whispered ‘Good night’ before walking away quietly. Bofur watched the halfling’s silent steps all the way to his own mattock before lying down as well; a grin still present in his face and the hobbit soft smile in his thoughts before falling asleep.

 

Maybe Bofur couldn’t get the hobbit to stop missing his comfortable home, or turn a ragged piece of cloth into a fancy handkerchief, but he could and would make sure that the little guy felt as contented as possible during their journey.

 

Making people happy was, after all, one of the things he knew was good at.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The companies continues to move forward, while Bilbo gets closer to the Ur family.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi everyone. I managed to write another chapter, finally. I hope you like it and thank you for all the kudos!

* * *

 

After their little conversation that night, Bilbo had opened up a little more to him and his family. It probably helped that they were a particular brand amongst the company, being natives from the Blue Mountains and not part of dwarven nobility. It also helped that the hobbit loved food almost as much as his brother Bombur did.

 

“For hobbits”, Bilbo had said one night after dinner, “eating is an important part of our culture. My grandfather used to say that many disputes could be resolved with a good meal shared between the parts. Maybe that’s the reason why we don’t have many fights in The Shire.”

 

His brother had listened fascinated while nodding repeatedly. Bombur had great respect for a culture that gave so much importance to food. He did not only like to eat food, but to prepare it as well. And he was quite a good cook as well. He was also fascinated by Bilbo stories about his many family members. Bombur always said that, if Mahal allowed him to find his One, he would love to have a large family, full of little ones to feed and care for. Bifur liked the little guy as well, thought you wouldn’t notice if you weren’t used to his own particular way of communicating.

 

The others members of the company were slowly starting to get closer to the halfling as well, but it was Bofur who got to talk to him the most. He had always liked to hear stories about different people, and Bilbo loved to talk about his Shire a lot while sharing a smoke with him. It probably helped him to ease his homesickness, he thought.

 

Another night of talking alone near the fire, Bilbo had told him about his adventurous mother and the way she used to encourage him to leave the house to explore the world. He told him, laughing at the memory, of how he would arrive at his house with feet full of mud and dry leaves after a long afternoon of climbing trees or wandering around, and his mother would laugh wholeheartedly at him, while his father complained about the carpet being ruined.

 

“I never thought I’ll say this, but I think I kind of became my father.” he had said with a worried look.

 

“Hey, you are out here, in the wild, with feet full of mud, aren’t ya?” Bilbo had smiled then, looking at his indubitably muddy feet. “But you still get all fussy-bunny if that fancy coat of yours gets dirty, so I guess that’s still half-truth.” Bilbo showed him, slightly annoyed at being called a ‘fussy-bunny’, but the following grinning face told him that he wasn’t really that mad at him. Teasing the hobbit was starting to become Bofur’s favorite pastime. And he liked seeing the halfling get to smile a little after looking so worried and scared most of the time, especially after they started to get closer to the Misty Mountains and the eerie noises at night became more frequent.

 

But Bilbo didn’t have anything to be afraid of, he told himself. He promised himself that he will protect their burglar as best as he could. He didn’t know if they stood a chance against Smaug, but he would at least make sure that the hobbit arrived at Erebor without a scratch. He didn’t mind doing it either, since he was used to taking care of others, being the older brother and the caregiver of his cousin. But what Bofur never expected to happen was that it was going to be their burglar the one that saved them from a Troll ambush.

 

On their journeys, his family had always managed to avoid those halfwits or run away from them without much trouble. But this time, Bombur almost didn’t lived to tell the tale, thought Bofur while looking at his brother; his face a little green after almost being turned into troll-snack. Luckily, the wizard had arrived on time and saved them, with the help of their hobbit, of course, who distracted the trolls enough to gain them time. The wizard had been right that night at Bag End. The hobbit definitely had a great deal to offer that even himself was unaware of.

 

“Come on, Bombur. Help me up, will ya?” He asked his brother, trying to help his cousin to get up.

 

Then he saw the hobbit by himself and approached him to thank him. “That was some quick thinking, Bilbo” he said clapping the hobbit’s shoulders. His brother still looked like he was about to throw up, and his cousin just looked at Bilbo and growled something. “They are grateful as well.”

 

Bilbo just looked skeptically at him. “And if they are still mad about the parasites business, a good meal and it’s all forgotten. Right Bombur?” he said, clapping his brother’s back hard, which turned out to be a big mistake. It was pure luck that Bombur managed to get far enough from them before reviewing todays dinner on Dwalin’s boots.

 

Bofur was about to go apologize when he heard Thorin ordering him to search the troll’s cave. After finding it and taking care of all the treasures the nasty creatures managed to obtain, the day became a blur of surprise encounters with strange wizards, after Orc ambushes, after Elves that, no matter what their leader’s opinion was, were the least bad thing that happened to them on that busy day. The company entered Rivendell still wary, but relieved that Gandalf was still amongst them and wouldn’t allow anything bad happening to them under his watch.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In the next chapter, that I hope can get published next week, comes Rivendell.  
> I hope you are patient since this is going to take some time to build.  
> Comments, feedback and corrections are really appreciated :)


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Their time at Rivendell felt like a small vacation to most of the company, and was a dream come true for the hobbit. Bofur can't help to be fascinated at the hobbit's visible happyness.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry for the long wait, people! As an apology, this chapter is actually twice as long as the first two, and it cost me blood and sweat to write. I hope you enjoyed reading it and thank you for following my story. As always, any kind of feedback is greatly appreciate it :)

* * *

 

The few days spent at Rivendell felt like a small vacation for most of the company; their leader being the only exception with his constant pacing and angry looks. Bofur had to admit that the place wasn’t as bad as he imagined it to be, with the exception of the boring music and the general stiffness of the people. But it was nothing that some good music and dancing couldn’t fix, he decided, and promptly demonstrate it. It’s not like Bofur had planned to use Bilbo’s song for it, though. The dwarf wasn’t exactly one to plan things. It had just occurred to him, and the unmistakable enthusiasm of his companions, their usually solemn leader included, was proof that it had been a good idea after all. He only hoped that the hobbit would agree with him as well.

 

After the song was over, he looked at the place were Bilbo sat, all shy and small next to Balin and he was worried for a few seconds. Then, the hobbit turned his gaze at him and Bofur, without thinking it twice, winked playfully at him. The dwarf looked pleased at the small smile starting to form and the flushed cheeks, while the hobbit shook his head at him.

 

After lunch was finished and the uncomfortable-looking elves were walking them to their rooms, Bofur approached the hobbit with his permanent cheerfulness.

 

“Aye, Bilbo!” He shouted, and casually threw an arm around the hobbit’s shoulders. “I have to ask. What did you think of my personal arrangements to your master piece?”

 

Bilbo just snorted.

 

“It’s hardly my master piece, Bofur, and it was all right, I guess.” The hobbit looked warily over his shoulder and got closer to him, lowering his voice to a whisper with a conspiratorial smile plastered across his face. “Anything that can get his majesty happy enough to dance definitely deserves all the praise it can get.”

 

Bofur laughed wholeheartedly at the comment and got closer to the hobbit, lowering his voice in a similar manner. “Hey, he can be quite a merry fellow, sometimes”, and looked openly at the king who was, luckily for him, too busy trying to show his disgust for everything Elvish to notice. “Don’t let the permanent scowl deceive you. He truly is a party animal.”

 

Bilbo try to cover the eminent burst of laughter without success. This time, all the other dwarves, the wizard and even some of the elves, had turned their questioning gazes at the pair. Bilbo tried unsuccessfully to become smaller than he already was, while Bofur just laughed at the hobbit’s uncharacteristic outburst.

 

Luckily for the burglar, the company stopped paying them attention as they got closer to their apparent destination. The tall and older-looking elf that greeted Gandalf earlier showed them their accommodations while repeating his welcoming to the company. The younger elf that was always following the older one like a lap dog lead them to what they will be, for all the time they will spent there, their rooms.

 

As they company prepared themselves to climb the impossible number of stairs leading to said place –what was with Elves and stairs, anyway- Bofur tried in vain to convince his cousin to give him his luggage. Bifur showed him with visible indignation and started to yell at him in Kudzhul, shouting that he was still strong enough to carry not only his own luggage, but theirs as well, and even both siblings if necessary. Bofur retorted that not even a herd of oliphants could carry Bombur, but Bifur only pointed at the hobbit and murmured something that Bombur translated for him:

 

“Cousin says that you should stop nagging him and go help your halfling.”

 

Bofur stared confused at his brother. “My halfling?” Then, he turned to look at the hobbit in question, who seemed like he wanted to devour every piece of architecture with his eyes. His brother showed him softly and walked away. Bofur sighed and started to walk towards where Bilbo was. When he looked at him, the dwarf pointed at the hobbit’s backpack and asked him if he wanted some help.

 

Bilbo, like he expected to, frowned and retorted with visible irritation: “You people treat me like I am some delicate flower sometimes!”

 

Bofur watched silently as the tantrum took place, secretly enjoying the way he put both hands on his waist. “You should go and help your cousin. I can handle myself perfectly fine!”

 

Bofur couldn’t help to snort at the halfling’s Dwarven-like stubbornness. “And who do you think was the one that sent me here?” He couldn’t decide which one, if the burglar or his cousin, was the most thick-headed of the two. “Besides, you are mistaken about our reasons, Bilbo. We offer you help not because we think you weak, but because we know you are not used to the traveling lifestyle like we do, Master Hobbit” and crowned his answer with a small tilt of his head.

 

He looked pleased at the way the hobbit started to ease his scowl after hearing his words as usual. ‘You see? He’s not mad at you. He will never be mad at you’, he thought, contented. Bilbo replied him that his people used to be travelers as well, but he ended up giving him his backpack, anyway.

 

The pair started to climb the stairs side by side, slightly away from the rest. Bilbo, then, resumed his enthusiastic visual tour with obvious awe written on his face, letting some unchecked ‘gorgeous’ and ‘beautiful’ out as he walked by. Bofur was just too glad that none of the elders were close enough to hear him.

 

“Do you like it here, Bilbo?”

 

The hobbit beamed at the dwarf with the most start-struck eyes he thought one could have. “Gods, yes!” he exclaimed. “I had always wanted to come here, since I was a small hobbitling. I thought we would never run across it, but here we are!” he exclaimed happily.

 

It was the first time on the time knowing him that he had seen the hobbit so merry. The look on Bilbo was so enormously different, so full of wonder at his surroundings that he couldn’t help to feel a pang of jealousy when he remembered that the Elves were the reason behind it. He wondered for a second if he will have the same spark in his eyes when he could finally look at the legendary splendor of Erebor.

 

“The place is just like I imagine it to be from my mother’s stories.” The hobbit had continued speaking, oblivious to the dwarf’s visible discomfort. “And the people, even fairer”

 

Bofur just felt the knot in his stomach get tighter and bit his tongue before saying something. Bilbo kept talking animatedly.

 

“The language is also nicer to the ear than I thought it would be. I often wondered about what the correct word pronunciation was, you know? It’s not like I could compare my own with anyone in The Shire-“ The hobbit stopped talking, suddenly aware at how inappropriate his chatting was. “Stars, I’m so sorry, Bofur!” the cheerfulness already gone from his face. “I apologize for my callousness. Me and my huge mouth-”

 

Bofur stopped him before he resumed insulting himself. “Aye lad, it’s all right, really.” He whispered while squeezing the hobbit’s shoulder. He didn’t want Bilbo being guarded with him. “What happened between my people and them has nothing to do with you. So don’t beat yourself up about it.”

 

Bofur appreciated greatly the fact that the hobbit was comfortable enough with him to let himself be without any worries. He looked back at his early tentative of friendship and marveled at how much things had evolved between them since then. He didn’t want things to go backwards.

 

And is not like he was as poisoned against the Elves as some of the other dwarves were. He belonged to a different generation than Balin and Thorin. He wasn’t even alive during that foul day known as The Sack of Erebor, when the Elven king that ruled the Mirkwood Forest had abandoned them to their fates. His cousin, elder and more traditional, was a different case. He still didn’t appreciate the place obvious pomposity, or the inexplicable love of the weed-eater race for stairs, he thought, while they finally reach their destination.

 

The place in question had a living-room big enough to set up camp, but they were also given individual rooms for each family, thought the wizard, Bilbo and Thorin were given their own. Dwalin had protested at the suggestion of him leaving the side of their king, but surprisingly, it was Thorin and not his brother who placated his anger. Gandalf sighed relieved and bid the young elf farewell. After that, the company was left finally alone.

 

Bofur walked to where Bilbo was sit. The hobbit looked at the approaching dwarf with that awkward-look still present, despise his early words of reassurance. Bofur decided that he detested that look enough to take some drastic measures.

 

“So, are you planning to explore the place, Bilbo?”

 

“Um, yes, I do, actually.” The Halfling still looked unsurely at him. “Why do you ask?”

 

Bofur sit in front of him. “May I go with you?”

 

Bilbo looked started for a second, but before Bofur could help it there was a hurricane of “not necessary” and “you don’t have to”. The dwarf shush him with a wave. “I just like to take a good walk, that’s all.”

 

That was partially the truth. He had always enjoyed exploring around, regardless of the beauty of the place or the friendliness of the people. And he also wanted to be sure that the hobbit was safe walking around. He knew that the Elves had no reason to harm the hobbit, but you could never be absolutely sure.

 

Bilbo was finally beginning to lose that worried look. He stared silently at him and nodded. They agree to rest a little and then meet each other at the living-room. Then, they would take a stroll around the place before the night came. But when Bofur wake up and arrived to the accorded place, he didn’t find the Halfling, but an angry-looking Dwalin instead. He walked to where the taller dwarf was and went, like always, straight to the point.

 

“Where’s Bilbo?”

 

Dwalin looked at him with visible annoyance. “Do I look like the burglar’s caretaker?” Bofur just stared confused at him. What did that had to do with his question?. Dwalin sighed with resignation. “He went out with my brother, Thorin and the Wizard. Something about a meeting with the stuck-up Elf-guy.”

 

Bofur nodded and returned to his room, feeling relieved that the hobbit was protected, at least, and reminding himself to look for him tomorrow morning. But their arranged stroll never came. The Halfling kept being dragged along with Balin and Thorin, and when Dwalin decided that they couldn’t leave the place without bathing at the Elven sacred fountain, Bofur was glad that he couldn’t find the guy, for he would be obviously against the very idea of it.

 

Time seemed to fly at Rivendell, and their problems and anxiety seemed to vanish in thin air, but like every good thing in life, their vacation had to end someday, and it did earlier that the dwarf could have anticipated. After being there for a few days only, Thorin came with Balin and Bilbo, and commanded them to leave immediately, muttering about ‘meddling weed eaters’ as he packed. They were on the road to the Misty Mountains before anyone could suspect a thing.

 

* * *

 

The first days of resuming traveling, Bofur had watched Bilbo turn his gaze to where he thought Rivendell was, nostalgia written in his face just like the first days leaving his confortable home. Bofur had come to him, giving him the now familiar squeeze in his shoulder. “You will see it again, Bilbo. I promise ya.” Bilbo turned his gaze at him with eyes full of emotion. “You still owe me a walk, remember?”

 

The hobbit gave him a tentative smile then, but after seeing the determined look on the dwarf’s eyes, he had nodded, answering firmly: “When we return, then”.

 

Bofur kept his eyes on the hobbit for a second more, before turning around and walking away, looking worriedly at the increasing snow around them. Before he could stop himself, he thought:

 

‘If we return’.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In the next chapter is the scene I had planned since starting this fic. And romance start to move forward, I swear! XD


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everyone. First of all, I want to apologize for the long time that passed between the last update and this one. You know how it is when life gets in the way. 
> 
> This chapter is actually the first one I wrote; the companion piece of 'Above our control' with Bofur's POV, but then I decided that I wanted to begin the fic with, well, the beginning, and so I started to get the whole story in three previous chapters before this one. So, as a result, I had to change a lot of what I wrote then and I ended up writing this: the longer chapter so far. And right before BOFA comes to cinemas to break our hearts, like I wanted :) 
> 
> I also checked the first three chapters and fixed a lot of grammar and spelling mistakes. You were right, Lady Dragon, the last chapter had a lot of them, and I hope this one is better. Your advice about reading it aloud really helped me. Thank you! 
> 
> Well, nothing else to say except I hope you enjoy this chapter and thanks for all the kudos, bookmarks and feedback <3

* * *

 

Bofur got closer to the where the hobbit was, seemingly occupied examining a bush in deep concentration, and asked him for the third time in a row.

 

“So, is this fruit poisonous, Bilbo?”

 

The hobbit let out a sigh and looked at the dwarf trying to look stern. “Well, like I said before, and the time before that, I’m far for being an expert in fruits, particularly ones that grow so far from The Shire. But I believe that so many spikes around it may be the plant’s way of telling us to keep as far away from it as possible.”

 

Bofur looked at the fruit again and then at Bilbo; a teasing smile starting to form on his lips. “Or maybe, the fruit is just saving itself for someone special”.

 

Dori growled annoyed and Ori just looked at both of them with confusion written on his face.

 

The hobbit just smirked. “I didn’t took you for a romantic, master Bofur” -and then, with a more playful expression- “or a plant specialists.”

 

Bofur looked pleased at the hobbit’s quick answer, but he wasn’t one to let another one get the last word. “That’s because real specialist don’t brag about their knowledge. They demonstrate it when the occasion comes”, and wiggled his eyebrows.

 

Bilbo just shook his head and walked away, while Dori just snorted and pushed his younger sibling away from the scene, who had taken the occasion to open up his notebook and start writing furiously.

 

* * *

 

Despite the apparent good humour behind the scene, the day had been long and gloomy. Lots of their provisions were lost during the orc attack that almost got their leader killed, and hunger was striking again. After a long deliberation, Dwalin and the young princes had decided to search the surroundings for something to hunt, while the others stayed to settle camp. It was Dori who then suggested to the remaining Dwarves to form a small searching group for fruits or edible plants while they waited for the hunting group to return. Oìn and Bilbo quickly volunteered and Ori joined them reluctant at the prospect of searching ‘edible grass’. Bofur, then, looked at his silent cousin, apparently too tired to even take place at the small assembly, and at his sour-looking brother, trying his best not to complain about his hunger once again. Not wanting to stay there doing nothing and get himself on a bad mood, he decided to volunteer as well. He had always feared that the day would come when he would lose his cheerful mood, and that day would be the day he’ll lose all hope as well.

 

The search lasted for a few hours, and while it couldn’t be called a failure, Bofur doubted that the small amount of fruits they’d manage to find were enough to satiate a two day hunger of thirteen dwarves, plus one hobbit. He shuddered at the thought of Dwalin and the hunting group not catching anything, but quickly managed to put those poisonous thoughts away when he looked at the hobbit he loved to tease so much. That way, the afternoon passed quicker for all of them, and he got the chance to see with his own eyes that the halfling now interacted with his kin without a trace of the awkwardness he sported just a few months ago.

 

 

* * *

 

Of course, he wasn’t at all surprised about the changes. Over the course of their months together, the hobbit had proved everyone wrong about their early judgements, but that night of the battle near the trees ended up cementing that what Gandalf told them that night at Bag End wasn’t an exaggeration at all. There was great courage in hobbits, or at least, in this one.

 

He remembered the moment when he saw him jumping from the momentary safety of their tree to where Thorin and that scary-looking orc were battling, and shuddered. That had been the third time in the lapse of only a few hours when Bofur had to face the prospect of never seeing the halfling again; thought it was one thing to say goodbye and watch him return to his home and comforts, and another one to watch him being sliced open in front of him. And to think he had made a promise to himself not so long ago that he will make sure that the hobbit gets to Erebor without a scratch. He shook his head, trying to get rid of the guilt he felt at the memory of his hand failing to reach Bilbo’s.

 

He kept walking when he saw Thorin trying to build a fire with some difficult, and stopped himself before going to where he was to offer his help. Their prince was proud and he took his role of protector really seriously. Being left out from the hunting group due to his own wounds was probably already a hard blown for his ego without having to deal with a mere miner suggesting that he needed help for such a simple task. He wondered for a moment what the king felt when he saw the hobbit putting himself between himself and the orc.

 

Thankfully, his train of thought was interrupted with the sound of the now too familiar voice of the hobbit calling him. He saw him sitting next to a tree, making what now he recognized as a beckoning gesture, and went to sit in front of him.

 

“Miss me that much after so little time, Bilbo?”

 

The hobbit in question looked uncharacteristically nervous, but he had been acting a little weird around him since a few days ago. He had wondered why that was, but had decided to wait until the appropriate time to ask him.

 

Bilbo looked awkwardly at him and cleared his throat. “I’ve been wanting to talk to you these few days, but I was waiting for a time when we were alone.”

 

‘So there was something after all’. Bofur looked at the hobbit, who looked away and cleared his throat once again, the same way he did when he was nervous, and decided to wait until he gathered his courage to speak once again. He wasn’t expecting what came next.

 

“Bofur, I would like to apologize again for all the horrible things I said. It appears that my mouth is not going to stop making me look like the most thoughtless, callous individual.”

 

He cut the hobbit before he could continue with the self-demeaning speech. “Wait, Bilbo. What are you talking about?”

 

“That’s right. There are way too may occasion to pick, aren’t there?” He said with a bitter tone. “I was referring to the other day at the cave, when I told that you didn’t belong…” The hobbit looked away once again and bit his lip.

 

‘Oh, that’, he thought, feeling a painful twist in his stomach at the memory. Somehow, the vision of him almost dying at the sword of that orc, and the self-guilt that came with it, had managed to bury the previous painful memories. He remembered the sadness he felt at seeing him left, probably forever, and the short-lasted happiness of seeing him amongst them after all, after a furious Thorin assured them that Bilbo left them for good this time. The moment between them at the cave had been painful, but it wasn’t like his words didn’t carry a grain of truth in them.

 

“Bilbo, don’t worry about it”. The halfling finally lifted his eyes and looked at him with serious determination.

 

“No, Bofur. What I said was callous and inconsiderate, especially to you. Since the very beginning, you have been the kindest to me, and don’t believe for a second I don’t appreciate it or plan to repay you.” Bofur was going to say that it wasn’t necessary but Bilbo stopped him with a hand gesture. “The promised I’ve made to you, to all of you, I’m planning to keep it. I’ll do everything in my power to help you regain your home”.

 

Bofur looked at the little hobbit’s gentle eyes shining with the strength of granite and he couldn’t help to feel moved by the image. A few months ago, this little person looked like he would break at the first disturbance they’ll find. How he had proved them wrong. And all of this to give them Erebor, a place Bofur didn’t even knew personally and wasn’t even sure it could ever become his home. Erebor was a promise; and adventure; one of the many dwarven stolen homes that most of their people were convinced couldn’t be recovered ever again. He wondered if this hobbit and its thirteen companions could prove them wrong. And if they did, could the splendorous reign of Durin become as cosy as that old hole over those green hills was to Bilbo?

 

The hobbit should have detected that something was wrong with him, since the shinning resolution turned to the worriedness he sported at the beginning of their talk. Bilbo asked him if he had said something wrong again. Bofur shook his head but remained quiet. How could he explain to the hobbit that what he associated with the word home wasn’t necessary what Bofur did? Home to him was his own family, waiting for him at the end of a hard working day to eat besides the fire. Home had been, a long time ago, mom and dad singing lullabies to him and Bombur and telling them stories before bedtime. He didn’t even know if he’d ever again find a place that could make him feel as warm and safe as those times. He kept thinking all of this when he heard the hobbit’s clearing his throat again.

 

“Even if I… if we fail at retaking Erebor-” Bofur blinked as coming out from a trace “-it doesn’t mean that you won’t have a home, you know? You can still find a place to live with your family or with a dwarwen lady”. The hobbit had lowered his gaze again at the last part and Bofur found himself lifting the hobbit’s chin with a finger to have those eyes on his own again.

 

“Dwarrowdames”, he corrected the hobbit, grinning at the Halfling’s incipient blush, “are not as easy to find as hobbit lasses, Bilbo”.

 

Bilbo freed himself from his touch with an exasperate look and retorted “That shouldn’t discourage you, Bofur. I’m sure you can find somebody that could make you happy or-”

 

“Are you planning to introduce me to someone, Bilbo?” He teased. He was glad to get into a joking mode once again instead of the sad route his thoughts were sending him, and he loved how the hobbit looked more and more embarrassed with each passing moment. It was incredible to the dwarf how he could go from sadness to happiness in just a few moments when the hobbit was with him.

 

“I don’t know any dwarrowdames”, he said matter-of-factly.

 

“Who said anything about dwarrowdames? I’m not a picky dwarf.” The hobbit expression lifted up with curiosity and the dwarf decided to keep teasing him further. “Maybe that cousin of yours that you love to talk so much about is available?”

 

Bilbo looked at him with a blank expression and, for a second, Bofur found himself wondering if perhaps he had gone too far, when the hobbit’s surprised him with a gesture that he rarely got to see on him: unguarded laughter. Bofur let out a relived sight and waited until the hobbit regained his breath again.

 

“I really don’t think Lobelia, of all hobbits, would take you, unless you were on board with getting rid of those pigtails” and then he pointed at his lower face “and _specially_ , that beard”.

 

Bofur then touched his offended beard. “¿What’s wrong with my respectable beard? Oh, I get it. Your cousin’s beard is probably not as good looking and that’s why she’d want mine gone, right?”

 

Bilbo’s response was another laugh and Bofur couldn’t help to feel marvelled at how youthful the hobbit’s face looked when he was happy. He had seen so many different expressions from him in their time together, but this was without a doubt the one he loved the most.

 

“You really are terrible Bofur, you know that?”

 

He felt his own lips curl up at that when Bilbo spoke again.

 

“I’m really going to miss having you around”.

 

Bofur felt his chest tightened at those innocent words. His life in the Blue Mountains felt so far away that he almost forgot that, one day, this adventure would end, and after that, the hobbit and he will part ways. He didn’t like the thought of the hobbit leaving again at all, not when all was so perfect a moment ago, so he opted for continuing to tease him.

 

“Then forget about your cousin and take me _you_ instead.”

 

Bilbo gave him a startled look and Bofur kick himself mentally for going too far again. Apparently, Bilbo wasn’t the only one whose mouth runs without asking the brain permission first. But Bilbo decided to surprise him for the second time in a row and asked him in a whisper:

 

“Would you promise to behave this time around if I do?”

 

“Perfectly, Bilbo”, he found himself answering without a second thought. “I’ll even teach you more songs if you like, or do anything you want”.

 

The hobbit smiled brighter then and his heart jumped at the sight.

 

“Anything I want?”

 

Bofur nodded without thinking. The time will come for him to ponder about how suggesting all of these must be sounding. But it wasn’t now.

 

“Would you play a song for me, then? Now?”

 

The dwarf kept staring at the grey eyes in front of him until the hobbit tilted his head, questioning. Bofur blinked, coming out of a trance. ‘Music, right. You promise him music, fool’. He searched his flute inside his coat with surprisingly trembling fingers. ‘What in Mahal’s name was wrong with him today?’ He wondered for a second if he could play at all in this state, but he needed to do something in order to calm the quickening pace of his heart. “Here it is!” He showed the flute to the hobbit and quickly diverted his gaze from his.

 

He was trying to think on some merry tune to distract him from his current state, when he felt the halfling’s small hand upon his arm.

 

“Wait! I… can you play something quiet? To help me sleep, I mean. All the walking made me tired.” Bofur felt the heat of the hobbit get through the many layers of clothing, and the whole world turned silent. He locked him in the eye again and answered:

 

“If you wish.”

 

Bilbo smiled warmly and the heat on his arms disappeared. Bofur, doing his best to concentrate, remembered one of those lullabies his father played for him, Bombur and their mother when they were children; a sweet song for the people that were the whole world for him.

 

* * *

 

Some time had passed after, a few minutes or maybe hours. He fixed his eyes at the now sleeping form next to him. The hobbit had his back against the tree behind him; his messy curls covering most of his face to left only a relaxed mouth visible. He looked at him quietly, seemingly fascinated by the way his chest moved up and down, when he notice a slight shiver. The dwarf, then, removed his coat and covered the smaller figure with it, feeling him stir at the sudden contact. He closed the distance between them, his body taking control of his actions once last time, and whispered ‘Sweet dreams, Bilbo’ before getting away.

 

He watched around and saw, with no minor surprise, that the heat of the afternoon had taken its toll on the rest at the company, since most of them were asleep now, with the exception of the ever observant Thorin and Balin. When Bofur reached the prince’s eyes, he was received with a serious expression –not at all unusual in Durin’s heir- that he answered with a small nod that was replied automatically by the other. He looked at the hobbit again, feeling an overwhelming warmth that relaxed his muscles, and briefly wondered about the hunting group, before preparing to sleep as well. He hoped that the prospect of food would give order to his messy thoughts; but for now, he would lay happily next to the hobbit, guarding his sleep from anything that may decide to disturb it.

 


End file.
